A Bit Of Goldmood

A Song For Douglas (after He's Dead)

He crouches on the floorThere's a mask on the wallAnd he leafs through the pages of a bookBut wait as he may in the shadow of other leavesHis heart in embraces to times long since scorched

The horizon folds over with a purple sunriseAnd the wind carries smoke from a world that is burningThe smoke locks in his hair and he's covered with patternsAnd the descent of his life-trees on his camouflaged soul

With a winter of memories carved powder-bone whiteBeyond his skull's form a scorpion liesIn the crunch of the snow as his darkness increasesA twilight of ice encircles his teeth

There's a swastika carvedIn the palm of his handThere's a crooked crossThat is caught in his mindThere waits a falling sun in his eyesThere's the honour of violence on his lips

His father waits for him near the Towers of SilenceWhere they worship the fires so long quenchedUnder two willow trees with elhaz invertedThe force of life snapped -There father and sonShall mingle in dustAs if life itselfHas been mostly illusion but partially realAnd partially pain

And over some wallIf you look through the rubbleAmongst ruins of churches where life conquers deathThough empires cannot lastWhere blood and soil's conceptsHave faltered and failedA cloud still sows teethAs the world disappears...

This is a song for DouglasAfter he's deadThis is a song for my DouglasHis Mercury dances